A/N: Okay, explanation time. Way back last year on my birthday I read my first scarecrow comic. This was my first attempt at writing scarecrow so please excuse if he's a little OOC. I kept the story the same. Also, this was originally going to be the first of the fear trilogy rather than Subject of fear. Enjoy :)
Michelle nervously tapped her finger, avoiding the question.
"Michelle. Answer the question. What happened on your birthday?"
She sighs in defeat and looks up at her therapist.
"I dont know why it's bugging me. Every year I have a sucky birthday. Usually it's either that nobody got me anything I wanted or none of my friends showed up. But that's why I stopped inviting them after the seventh grade. Now here I am, seventeen and I feel so...hollow. You know?"
He stares at her questioningly.
"What happened last week? Last session you were getting everything you wanted, your dad is back on speaking terms with you, and even though your dog ran away, she came back the next day. So what changed?"
"My mom. I don't even know why I bother. Every time she acts like a decent parent, she let's me down. It's...depressing. I'm not depressed, but I can't help but be disappointed. Sure, I don't expect anything nice from her. In fact, she stopped spending money on me and just started giving me her old junk years ago. But I'm used to it. I was even ok when she texted me happy birthday from across the house last year. But this year...she let me down. So much."
"Start with when she first lied to you."
Michelle looks at the floor to avoid his gaze.
"Three days ago. I was going back to her house. It was swap day from my dads. My mom had texted me, said that she was getting me early. So that we could hang out together. I was just so excited. Mom hadn't spent the day with me in eight months. And even then it took a week of begging. I know I'm a loner. But not by choice. I'd like to think if I actually ate a heathy diet, and my mom didn't call me fat and control the fridge, I could go to school. I hate homeschool. It's bad enough my guts messed up, but whenever I start to get better, she snaps and criticizes my weird diet. Well, the afternoon was off to a sucky start when she told me that not only was sugar, protein, yogurt, carbs, or dairy evil, but they would make me worse. I feel like an anorexic vegan. I hate my moms fridge. I know I'm underweight. I try and eat, but there's no food! Its all condiments and diet products. One day I was so hungry I found a can of soup, but without a can opener, I took a hammer and beat that stupid can of chicken noodle for twenty minutes! It never opened. On a good day I'm a hundred pounds. But at my moms, I'm roughly ninety three. Do you know what it's like to always be hungry and your own mother won't let you eat?! Its torture. And with this war on sugar...every snack I sneak, I get insulted for. So after my new diet change, I was excited for a day with my own mother. Guess what? Her 'plan' was to drop me off a comic store with fourty bucks for twenty minutes. It was fun, don't get me wrong. But later I felt so hollow and empty inside. She had even given me her old tablet as a bonus present. Really I had been hoping for the tv show on DVD. To show that somebody actually listened to me. But I just have to face the facts, my mom has constant mood swings and very well may kill me one day, my dad ignores and insults me, and because I'm a loner who likes to write, I'm the black sheep. I wanna look at the bright side like I usually do, but I feel so empty. Why?"
Michelle looks back to her therapist who is tapping his pen against his notepad.
"The reason you feel hollow is simple, even though you got most of the things you wanted, the only thing you really wanted was praise or attention. When it was promised but never delivered, you felt let down more than usual because deep in the back of your mind, you knew what would happen. I know we've discussed this in the past but, why don't you live with your father if your mother is dangerous mentally and physically?"
"I'm not sure. I keep telling myself to. I pack up all my junk, but I can't do it. She might buy me lunch or actually talk to me, or buy me a comic. And I remember that I can't leave my mom. Everyone else leaves her but I can't. Oh my gosh. I hate it when I sound like one of those girls who met the wrong guy. This is different."
"You can't do it, because your afraid that once your gone, you'll realize that you've made the wrong decision. That people will hate you and you'll become even more isolated. Alone. If it weren't for your parents, you'd have conquered your panic attacks by now."
"So what should I do? I'm sick of being ignored."
The therapist smiles.
"Don't concern yourself with them. Separate the ties and everything will work out. Trust me."
"What should I do?"
A smile spreads across his face.
"Tonight, go out, then I want you to return at five in the morning. The risk will feel stressful, but it's for your benefit but remember, five am. Understood?"
Michelle smiles.
"Thank you so much. Your so helpful. Same time next week?"
"I'm afraid that this is our final session. As long as you heed my advice, you should be fine. But before we part ways, remember, don't bottle up your anger. Focus it on something and channel it. It's good for your sanity."
"Um. Ok. Dr crane... I'd better get home before my mom cuts out unseasoned popcorn again. It sucks but it's calories."